


petals and hearts

by sstarryknight



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hanahaki Disease, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2019-09-22 17:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17064128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sstarryknight/pseuds/sstarryknight
Summary: they're such fragile things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> once again prompted and kind-of-but-not-really-beta'd by raine who asked for something about the hanahaki disease. i tried searching up on it and i'm not really sure it's legitimate japanese culture/superstition/whatever but rather fanlore i suppose? so i just took it and ran with it haha dry laughter. i love making jongdae's life miserable (re: at a crossroads). the italicized inserted lines are not mine they come from sierra demulder's unrequited love poem which i wasn't a super fan of the first time i heard it but i came back to it when i wrote this and thought it fitted nicely so i used it as inspiration. TBH I DON'T really like this that much oh my god i had to force out the last lines and it still doesn't have the effect i wanna leave but w/e
> 
> [ 150529 ]
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> \---
> 
> i'm importing some near-ancient fic from my old livejournal in the hopes of reviving my not-so-successful fic writing career. please bear with me!
> 
> [ 181219 ]

\+ _on watching someone you love love somebody else_

it's loud and warm and almost stifling inside the small bar--to jongdae, it's the perfect kind of friday night. minseok, junmyeon, lu han, and kyungsoo are crowded around the table, a dozen or so bottles of _soju_ scattered amid the plates of assorted _anju_ and bowls of _makgeolli_. the edges of jongdae's mind are pleasantly hazy with alcohol as he laughs with the rest of them about school and work and girls and guys. they're in the middle of exchanging each of their own worst drunk stories--tonight, minseok has a particularly bad one.

"so he whipped out his dick in the middle of yeongjungno--like, _right_ in the middle of the road--and peed then and there."

the group erupts with a fresh wave of mirth, lu han banging the table with his fist in euphoria. "shit, no way!" he says between his peals of boyish laughter. “ _jongin_? our jongin? oh my god.”

“i’m not kidding! but it was at like, what, three in the morning? so luckily, he didn’t get arrested or anything. he _did_ almost get run over, though.”

jongdae finishes wiping the tears from his eyes, his chuckles dying down with the others as he refills everyone’s shot glasses despite junmyeon’s refusals (“shut up, _hyung_ , you need it”).

“where’s baek?” minseok asks as he takes the bottle from him, refilling jongdae’s glass in turn. “i thought he was coming.”

“i don’t know,” jongdae admits, somewhat embarrassed. he’s usually the first person to know anything about anything baekhyun-related, seeing as they’d been friends ever since they’d caught each other making faces behind the teacher’s back in the first grade. “he bailed last minute.” jongdae fingers the lip of his glass with unease. not knowing the reason as to why there was a “ _can’t make it tonight, sorry!! will make it up to u xx_ ” sitting in his inbox from earlier that night did not sit well with him.

kyungsoo snorts. he dorms with baekhyun in the residence hall across their university and likes to pretend they don’t, but baekhyun also likes pretending he’s deaf to kyungsoo’s “get the fuck off”s whenever he clings to him affectionately--all of kyungsoo’s “tough love” is lost on baekhyun, really. “apparently, he’s got a hot date tonight,” he goes on to say, smirking knowingly from behind his glass.

a chorus of “ _what_?”, “oh, come on,” and “you’re kidding!” reply, but jongdae falls quiet, unsure. suddenly he hates how clear his mind is, how full his glass is, how there is not nearly enough alcohol in his system for him to deal with this.

“what’s his name, what’s his name?” lu han asks, almost tripping over his words in excitement.

“park chan--yeol? something like that. they talk on the phone for _hours_ , god, it’s the worst.”

“wah, amazing,” junmyeon says in awe. “you knew about this, jongdae?”

“he never really told me his name,” jongdae hears himself saying, forcing his lips into what he hoped was an acceptable version of a smile. it’s not quite a lie. it’s just that baekhyun never told him he was seeing anyone, either.

jongdae downs his _soju_ , the burn in his insides more painful than pleasant this time around. there’s a telltale itch starting to form in his throat and jongdae clamps a hand over his mouth, clutching his stomach to pass it off as nausea from over-drinking in front of the others, which is a bit of a stretch considering how strong a drinker he is. he runs to the men’s room, locking himself in a cubicle before going into a coughing fit.

the phlegm-like feeling rises from his throat and out from in between his lips. jongdae cups a hand to his mouth, trying to make as little mess as possible. “shit,” jongdae hisses as he spits the last of it into his hand, the bitterness on his tongue still enough to make his lips curl into a grimace. his palm is sticky with saliva and covered in vibrant yellow petals, a few slipping through his fingers and fluttering to the damp tiled floor.

\---

_the hanahaki disease is an emotionally-linked illness that affects the respiratory tract. it is caused by feelings of love that are not reciprocated, otherwise known as unrequited love. a phlegm-like substance is secreted along the airway, eventually hardening into plastuita: solid flakes of a similar material and form as that of flower petals, varying in color and shape according to different genera of existing flowering plants. it is said that the type of 'petal' produced correlates to the emotion being experienced at the time of secretion, but there is no scientific basis for this claim. this discharge is then expectorated. over-the-counter medication is available to ease the symptoms of the illness. there is no known cure for this disease, though many speculate that having one's feelings reciprocated is one such solution._

also known as the shittiest, most uncalled-for condition on the planet, according to kim jongdae. as if the heartache wasn't bad enough.

\---

\+ _you are the best friend again_

this is the first time jongdae hesitates when _baek_ flashes across his phone screen. he thinks better of the pause of his hand hovering over the vibrating phone. he swipes his thumb over the screen to accept the call, swallowing back the thickness he feels forming in his throat so he can force out a “hello?” that sounds passably normal.

“i haven’t seen you since last month, you dick,” comes baekhyun’s voice from the speaker.

“not my fault you ditched last night, asshole,” jongdae counters. he’s doing alright. this feels--normal. he never had to think much around baekhyun. “also, last month was literally like, two days ago. we ate in the cafeteria after you decided to skip chemistry. remember?”

“something came up, okay? also, ouch? i have abandonment issues. be gentle with me.”

“i’ll humor you. i’m kind of the only person that does, so count yourself lucky, you bastard.”

“so kind. and because you’re _sooo kind_ , you’re coming over to mine for some chicken while we play soulcalibur until our eyeballs get fried. just like old times.”

“ugh. you _know_ i suck at sc just as much as i did back in high school.”

“exactly.”

“ _dick_.”

“kidding. you do okay with talim. come on, i’ll even let you use her. even if she’s my main. because i am the best, coolest, most good-looking best friend you will ever have.”

“yeah, okay, i get it, please stop. what time do i swing by.”

“whenever. it’s not like you haven’t been at the dorm before.”

“i don’t know, man, it’s like i’m always on eggshells around kyungsoo when i’m there. i feel like he’s super anal about like, guests and shit.”

baekhyun lowers his voice significantly when he says “what is he not anal about,” followed by an abrupt smacking sound and a faded “what the _fuck_ , how did you hear that from over _there_.” jongdae assumes kyungsoo gave him a proper beating. about time. “god.” baekhyun’s voice returns loud and clear. “anyway. i’m pretty sure he’d rather you were his roommate than me. don’t sweat it.”

“so you _are_ aware of how annoying you are. i’m proud. this is progress.”

“be _gentle_.”

“kidding. be there in a few.” jongdae moves the phone away from his ear to end the call, hearing a tinny “bring beer!” as a goodbye. he chuckles and puts the phone down.

he just couldn’t say no, could he.

\---

it’s not that jongdae wasn’t used to keeping the petals down whenever he was around baekhyun. that was an ever-present thorn in his chest he had long gotten used to. some sorry day in late october of junior year in high school: the first time he had hacked up some white petals--pretty, they were, but he crumpled them in his palm before anyone else could see. much as he hated to admit it, it had taken him a while to figure out who exactly was to blame for his condition. he thought it had maybe been minseok- _hyung_ , just because he got a boner that one time he happened to pass by the football field during practice. jongdae couldn’t really look him in the eye for some time after that, but he figured later on it was probably just the _sunbae_ feelings. it wasn’t until baekhyun decided fucking around and singing youngstreet’s _love song_ into jongdae’s face as a joke was a good idea that jongdae had realized his case of hanahaki was thanks to his idiot best friend. typical.

so no, it isn’t the fact that he can literally feel his heart pick up the pace whenever he catches sight of baekhyun’s dumb-as-shit pre-pubescent face that had not fucking changed since middle school jongdae swears to god. it’s just. it’s the first time he’s seeing him after finding about this park chanyeol, is all. best friend or not, jongdae feels uncertain of everything he thought he knew everything about. he’s not sure how to act, what to say, whether to bring up chanyeol at all. he knows baekhyun’s not an object, he doesn’t have a claim on him, no one does, but years of being more _baekhyunandjongdae_ rather than just _baekhyun and jongdae_ had made him think it would always be them, two against the world, trying to out-snark each other even on their deathbeds. it’s a silly notion he was too busy entertaining to notice that his best friend had gone off and grown up, leaving jongdae all alone to be the petulant child who could no longer call “his baekhyun” _his_.

trust jongdae to be anything but rational when it came to the floppy-haired bastard.

\---

he swears baekhyun’s eyes literally sparkle _shoujo-anime_ -style when he opens the door and sees the ob bottles clinking in the three plastic bags jongdae’s carrying. “i love you,” baekhyun wheezes reverently, his face too pathetically expectant of alcohol for the words to mean anything to jongdae but they make something jump up and do a somersault in his chest despite himself. he has to swallow hard against the familiar bitterness in his throat to say “you’re welcome. do you know how much meat i could buy with 54000 won? your chicken had better be fucking kyochon or some shit. now let me in.”

baekhyun disappears to the bathroom while jongdae goes to set down the bags in the living room, where six boxes of chicken are stacked on the floor (it’s not kyochon, but baekhyun makes up for it in quantity at least) and kyungsoo is on the couch with his legs tucked up under him, eating what seemed to be _kongguksu_ out of a bowl.

“hi, kyungsoo. beer?”

“i’m good. i have some errands to run first thing in the morning tomorrow and i’d rather not do them with my head split open.”

“you’re such a killjoy.”

“the greatest there is.”

jongdae snorts while he sits on the wooden floor, taking the bottles out of the plastic. the console is already set up, soul calibur’s glowing sphere crystal gem thing rotating in the start menu. he grabs the bottle opener from the coffee table to crack open one while he waits for baekhyun.

he lifts the bottle to his lips when kyungsoo splutters, “what’d you do to your _eyes_.”

jongdae whips his head around and sees baekhyun settling down onto the floor next to him, his chin sticking out in defiance. jongdae gets a closer look at him and he’s--his eyes are framed by dark liner, sharp and clean around his eyelashes but expertly blurring out at the corners. it’s just a bit of makeup but he looks...different.

“i just wanted to try it out,” baekhyun says over kyungsoo’s chuckles, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. kyungsoo shakes his head and leaves with his empty bowl, leaving jongdae alone to deal with this mess.

baekhyun grabs the two controllers and hands one to jongdae. the expression on his face must’ve been terrible because baekhyun’s pout intensifies, his eyebrows pulling together. “don’t laugh.” he looks so hurt jongdae freaks out and scrambles to remedy the situation.

“i’m--i’m _not_ , i wasn’t gonna--i wasn’t gonna say anything--i didn’t. y--you look good,” jongdae finally chokes out. he’s rewarded with one of baekhyun’s grins, the ones he loves where baekhyun’s eyes disappear into the dark crescents of his lashes.

jongdae drops the controller and gets to his feet, making his way to the bathroom. he throws a “gotta pee” over his shoulder and hopes baekhyun doesn’t get too suspicious. it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s bent over the toilet, coughing almost violently. it takes several minutes until the last of the purple petals are floating in the water, a few stray ones settled on the seat. he runs his sleeve over his watery eyes, taking a moment to steady his breathing.

“jongdae?”

fuck.

he turns around and kyungsoo’s holding the door open with his hand, his head poking in. “oh--sorry, you left the door open--” jongdae is frozen, watching kyungsoo’s eyes fall on the toilet seat, going from concerned to surprised in two breaths.

“don’t tell him,” jongdae says in a rush. “please.”

kyungsoo nods wordlessly, eyes wider than they usually are. jongdae tears off some tissue to wipe the seat clean and push the rest of the petals into the toilet. he flushes it down and washes his hands--he’s in the middle of rinsing the suds off when he hears a “jooongdaaae” echo down the hall.

“shit,” jongdae hisses. he gestures for kyungsoo to make himself scarce but it’s a bit late for that.

“kyungsoo, are you watching jongdae pee.” baekhyun’s voice is outside and soon after he pushes the door open wider. jongdae barely had time to school his expression into something resembling nonchalance and he didn’t even want to think about how this looked to baekhyun.

“why is kyungs--oh. wait, i get it.” baekhyun leans against the side of the doorway not blocked by kyungsoo and has some kind of smug smirk on his face. “dude, if you wanted to have a little private time with my roommate here, you could have just said so. you’re my best friend, you can tell me anything! if you wanted to see him, i would have kept up the hang-out pretense and stuff. anything for you, man.” he clicks his tongue and points finger-guns at jongdae in an _i got you_ manner. “i got you.”

at this point, jongdae will take anything. kyungsoo stares at baekhyun in disgust before stomping off. “i’m going to bed,” jongdae hears him mutter.

“oh--oh, i’m sorry, i’m interrupting,” baekhyun says in between his amused chuckles, until jongdae plants a hand in his face and pushes him back into the hallway, the other hand shutting the door behind him.

“baek, for once in your life, shut up.”


	2. Chapter 2

\+ _do not think this is special_

baekhyun can’t hold his alcohol for shit.

he’s halfway through his fourth bottle and jongdae’s tipping back the last of the liquid in his sixth to down it. jongdae is fine, tapping out the few combos he knows on the controller, back triangle circle square triangle down square triangle like it’s nothing. he thinks baekhyun is trying to pull some defensive tactic because on the screen, mitsurugi just keeps holding his sword up over and over again. it’s not until he looks over to baekhyun when he realizes he’s half-asleep, eyelids falling and thumb insistently pressing the x button over and over again.

jongdae nudges baekhyun’s shoulder with his own. “hey. don’t fall asleep on me, dude, it’s only 2 am.”

baekhyun lets go of the controller and rubs his eyes. “‘m not gonna,” he mumbles.

jongdae is merciless and also a cheat because he takes this chance to horizontally attack mitsurugi right off the edge of the platform in the _corridor of suspended time_ stage. the red and gold _ring out_ flashes onscreen.

“oh my god, you _asshole_.” baekhyun slurs his words a bit. he also flails his fists at jongdae’s shoulder in what jongdae assumes is an attempt to hit him.

“it’s not my fault you can’t take a few beers. god, baekhyun. they’re just _beers_ and you’re way past hit already.”

“shu. shut up,” he mumbles, his fists dropping down jongdae’s sweater and instead wriggling their way around jongdae’s arm and suddenly baekhyun is _snuggling him_.

jongdae likes to think he’s a good person. he studies hard and calls his parents every night and pays his bills on time and donates his old clothes to charities. apparently that isn’t enough for whatever celestial _sadist_ is up in the sky because the object of his unrequited affections is now _snuggling against his arm. something has got to fucking give._

even through the fabric of his sweater he can feel baekhyun’s warm face, red with the glow of alcohol. jongdae is too far gone to push him off, to make him stand up so jongdae can put him to bed, to be doing the things he _should_ be doing.

but he just sits there, his very own space heater right next to him. he brushes the pad of his thumb against baekhyun’s cheek, the sheer daring of it triggering the spasms in his chest. he swallows hard. his chin rests atop baekhyun’s soft mop of brown hair and his hand decides to be even more stupid and travels down to trace paths along the skin of baekhyun’s right hand. baekhyun makes a small noise in his throat which jongdae hopes is appreciative. his fingers move past the back of baekhyun’s hand to his wrist where the skin is interrupted by a ridge-ridden something encircling the base of his hand. jongdae peers around baekhyun’s hair to look at it. it’s a guitar string, rusty and worn and dull from use, fashioned into a small bracelet.

“baek.”

“mmhm.”

“where’s this from?” the bracelet is pinched between jongdae’s fingers.

“mm--” baekhyun murmurs something he can’t quite hear.

“what?”

“chanyeol. chanyeol--he--gave it to me and he kissed me and then he told me he--he loved me.”

jongdae feels his face go wooden.

“he--he makes me so happy,” baekhyun goes on, his face still buried in jongdae’s sweater. “he’s like--like sunlight.”

jongdae drops the bracelet. “it’s late,” he says curtly. he moves to get up but baekhyun clings onto him insistently.

“don’t. don’t leave me,” baekhyun says, his voice small. his eye liner’s slightly smudged. he looks like a kid playing dress-up more than ever.

jongdae pulls baekhyun to his feet, lets him lean his weight against him. “i won’t. let’s get you to bed.”

he manages to get baekhyun to his room and on his bed. jongdae unfolds a blanket and lays it over him, watches him curl over on his side, watches his lips part, almost lost in sleep. or so jongdae thinks--he feels baekhyun’s hand curl around his quietly.

“jongdae- _yah_ ,” baekhyun murmurs, his eyes still closed. “i love you. don’t leave me. i love you so much please stay forever.”

jongdae can’t. he can’t do this. with his free hand, he smooths back baekhyun’s hair. then he’s untangling his fingers from baekhyun’s and it’s over. he needs to leave because the itch in his throat is choking him.

it’s love, jongdae thinks as he retches into a gutter by the side of the road. it’s love but it’s not the kind he needs.

he watches the petals flutter to the ground like quiet rain.

\---

\+ _you will want to call him_

jongdae is a daydreamer. it must be some symptom they didn’t include in the books, he thinks. that’s what happens with things you can’t have. they turn into dreams. the second-best thing, he bitterly says in his head.

his phone is open on his message thread under the name _baek_ , his finger shifting between scrolling idly through the texts and hovering over the _call_ button.

he daydreams about the what-ifs--what else is there to dream about? he thinks about getting near blackout-drunk and just pressing _call_ and letting his mouth spill over with things he doesn’t want to deal with anymore, giving everything to baekhyun instead and blaming the alcohol.

“don’t do it,” kyungsoo says gently. he’s watching jongdae from over his textbook, brow furrowed with concern.

jongdae is already closing the message thread with a touch of his finger. “don’t worry.”

\---

jongdae spends most nights watching car headlights flash past his ceiling. every time he blinks, all he can see is that smile.

baekhyun will just keep coming back to him and jongdae won’t ever be able to say no.

\+ _you are a souvenir shop, where he goes to remember how much people miss him when he is gone_


End file.
